Micro Gates - Cover

Micro Gates

Copyright© 2017 to PT Brainum

Part 3

Three weeks later our new 10 million gallon water tank was installed in the barn. I had upgraded the prep equipment, and the overhead cranes during the down time. We had also built a new control room outside the barn, as well as two processing rooms, one for preparing, and precooling the gates, the other for finishing ​the gates after creating them, and preparing them for shipping.

The 8 foot gates consumed slightly more than 3 million gallons. I had upgraded the water supply with two 12 inch gates that each supplied 10,000 gallons a minute. I was working with a team hired from the superconductor plant. They still lived there, but took a gate elevator to work.

With an 8 hour workday, I hoped they could do four 8 foot gates a day, or one 36 inch gate every 30 minutes. Everything was semi automated, with the workers controlling everything from the control room. Activation of the gates was by means of a weighted steel box with a pair of ½” micro gates in it. They were the least popular, so were available to be sacrificed.

Once everything was chilled, and in position, the control room would activate a switch and the micro gates would drop from a large gate over the tank. As soon as they fell between the larger gates, the process activated, and the new big gates were formed, consuming the smaller gates.

3.5 million gallons of water in the tank and part of the cables holding the gates in place disappeared. The gates​ fell into the water at the bottom of the tank, and were held by a big net. The net lifted the gates out to the processing room, and returned to the bottom of the tank. Then the next set of gates were set in place, and the process repeated.

I was pleased with the production numbers, and the three week delay meant that Bigelow ended up selling 2 pairs of 36” gates to NASA, providing a billion dollars of funding. The first gate enabled B330 had launched into LEO, and been expanded with resounding success. Mr Bigelow immediately spent the next month in space.

Elon had contacted me and asked if we were sure the gates would work at Martian distances. I had not actually tested it. We set up probe 2, refurbished it, and gave it an 12 inch gate in it’s cargo bay. Then I turned it over to SpaceX who made some improvements, figured​ out which direction Alpha Centauri was, and launched it.

The engineers at SpaceX had improved the acceleration to 18 m/s², it was 6 months to lightspeed. But this would really just test the distance capability. 12 weeks of flight time would put the vehicle 2000 times the distance to Mars, and just under .5c, or half the speed of light.

There was some debate about what to do at that point. The engineers wanted to cut acceleration at that point, and coast the rest of the way to Alpha Centauri. The physicist wanted to keep accelerating to and if possible pass the speed of light. I hadn’t weighed in, as I wasn’t sure either.

The news was covering the launch, and space enthusiast were wildly excited. Everybody was watching carefully, because if the gates were stable at that distance, then SpaceX would launch Red Dragon 1 with NASA’s 36” gate in November. They would also be launching 2 extra 36” gates, stored away under the NASA gate. The launch went flawless on the last day of July. I invited Bob out to join me for the launch.

We had a brief meeting with Bob, Elon, and myself after the launch. We talked briefly about the stock company, and the amount of cash it was producing. While I had made micro gates available to be purchased, it didn’t seem that anyone yet had the same idea we had. I was only selling the micro gates to customers that were purchasing them in large continuous quantities. No one had ordered a small set. We agreed to keep running the company as is, but to take the employee fund and hand out mid year bonuses, and cover in full the employee insurance programs, health, dental, life.

Bigelow was working on a Mars Hab that would deflate and fit through a 36” gate. It would then expand large enough to comfortably fit two people. Utilities would come thru micro gates installed after inflation. It was an audacious plan, needed because the ‘not invented here’ syndrome was still pervasive at NASA. In contrast, NASA’s current plan was to send a couple probes thru the gate. They weren’t even using gates to provide power and communications with the robot rovers.

SpaceX was working with the Mars society to design construction equipment that would fit thru a 36” gate and operate on Mars. I had donated the plans for my sand sintering machine. We had also contacted ESA, the European Space Agency. We had told them about our 2 gates, and asked if they would provide Mars suits. They were very excited, but understood that they could not leak word to NASA.

Russia had approached SpaceX about sending an extra gate to Mars for their use. They at least had scientists who could do basic math. There were some specific sanctions against Russia, but they were being lifted. The agreement was that they could purchase one of the Mars gates once the lifted restrictions allowed it.

SpaceX was preparing Red Dragon 2 for April to deliver a cargo of another 3 gates to Mars. A Moon Dragon was also planned, between the two Mars launches, to deliver 3 gates to the moon and return to Earth.

I had a message the day after probe 2 launched that the President again wanted me to take control of NASA. Elon refused as he already had too much on his plate. I countered, I would buy NASA from the federal government. It would be a wholly owned nonprofit subsidiary of my holding company.

The government would keep the parts of NASA that monitored space debris, and satellites, continuing to act as traffic controllers for space. They would also get to keep the name. NASA would become the FAA of space travel.

In turn I would get all the other employees, offices, and facilities that were NASA property. JPL, Huntsville, Cape Canaveral, Houston, the ISS, and all the probes and rovers, all the many NASA facilities all over the country. All NASA property left on the Moon would be deeded to the Smithsonian. In turn I would pay by providing 220 8 foot gates, priced at 10 billion each, for a national gate transport network. The number 220 being the number of airports in the United States with 100,000 or more passengers a year.

I would also build a central hub to connect all of them together, somewhere in the US where Congress gave me the land for it, and turn it over to the government to run, I suggested forming a nonprofit similar to the way the postal service was run. I’d even be willing to name it the Trump National Gateway.

He said he would run it by his people, and get back to me. I didn’t expect much of it, but I really liked the idea of the supergate hub. I wondered if the BLM would sell me some empty land in Wyoming.

I mentioned the conversation to Anne who had a fit. I tried to calm her down, but she wasn’t able to calm down, and I didn’t understand the problem until she finally took a big breath and explained. I would be immediately the richest guy on the planet, and my security risk levels would sky rocket. People would do the calculation, and decide that NASA must really be worth 2.2 trillion dollars, why else would anyone else pay that much money for it.

The fact that I had something worth that much, and could make more of that something without limit was going to break people’s brains. If I wanted security I’d better start living on Mars, and frisking every areologist who came on planet.

Ted had heard her explanation, as he had come into the room to see what the yelling was all about. He agreed that she was probably right, then started laughing. We both looked at him in wonder, until he finally caught his breath, and exclaimed “What are you going to do if he goes for it?” before laughing again.

I took his question seriously, “Build another couple barns just for big gate production. My profit on the big gates is 99.999%, it only costs me 100k to make a big gate. That’s 22 million plus the building to act as a hub. Sounds like a stinking good deal to me. I’ll do it just for that alone.”

A couple hours later I had a visit from my friendly Pentagon official. He called ahead, then dropped in via gate elevator. He told me that news of my offer had been circulating around the Pentagon already. He had come to see what kind of deal he could make on my 8 foot gates.

I explained the pricing, which he knew already, then mentioned I was willing to rent them at 2 million a year for a pair. He nodded, and asked the question is been waiting for, “and how much did it cost you to make them?” he asked.

“I’m not going to ever divulge cost, materials, or construction methods, they are trade secrets. I’m convinced that no one will ever replicate my accidental discovery. The next contract I have you sign will include a requirement that you never ask these questions again.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “The big worry is that somebody else figures it out, and starts making them, and we lose our national advantage.”

“Should that happen I’ll go broke. I’m not going to let that happen. If someone tries to force it out of me, then it will happen, not because I want it to, but because secrets this big can only be kept by one person.”

“The guys upstairs are talking about giving you military protection.” he told me.

“Squash that. They can offer to have a ready response unit available 24/7 that would be on call of my security service, but I can’t trust close security to keep my trade secrets if someone else is paying them.”

“Great, now about those gates. 2 million a year?”

Our discussion continued, and we finally came to an agreement for 1.5 million a year, but they would pick them up from the factory. My gates had already changed the force profile of the US military. Every soldier was wired in with communications, and power to run equipment 24/7. The future soldier experimental equipment was now a reality, and being shipped out as fast as it could be produced.

Drones now had unlimited loiter capability, and armed drones had unlimited ammo as the rockets could be fired thru a gate. Soldiers now all had secure comms, and ability to have computer generated battlefield maps at their fingertips. Every soldier had the capability of unlimited ammo and fuel for vehicles, and the ability to call in an airstrike on demand, with time to target never more than 2 minutes.

A next generation super tank had been whispered about, the M2 Abrams. It was supposedly all electric via gate provided power, had ammo resupply via gate, and could serve as an unlimited range attack vehicle, capable of 200 mph. It had anti drone lasers, dual main guns, and the ability to fire surface to air missiles, also via gate. It had crew of 2, and built in bunks and bathroom facilities. It could fire time on target shells for artillery missions, or it could fire tank killers for anti tank missions. A sophisticated glass cockpit and a next generation threat response system.

It was also rumored to start deploying in the next year with the ability to receive air and food via gate, and operate underwater up to 1500 feet. It sounded cool enough that I wanted one too.

I asked my friendly Pentagon official about the new tank and he told me that they were better than advertised, and he would arrange a ride in one someday soon. I thanked him, and said goodbye.

My lawyer showed up an hour later with the contract. There was a clause about the Department of Defense not asking certain questions that he was concerned about. I explained the reason for the questions, and that it was to provide assurance to the national security concerns. I emphasized that only one person could keep a secret this big.

He nodded in agreement, and we talked over the specifics of the contract. He wanted to know the reasons for the reduction in costs. I explained how it was part of the deal not to surround me with security, but provide my security company with a quick response team on call 24/7.

He then mentioned that if I bought the security company I’d have an extra layer of protection. I told him to find out if it was for sale, because I’d hate for a competitor to buy it then use it to spy on me.

He asked about the new house, so I told him it was on schedule and that I’d be moving into my personal floor in a few weeks. I promised him an invitation to the housewarming party in a couple months.

Ted saw him out, then came back to have a talk. He told me that the security company was likely not for sale, he knew the owners personally, they were all ex military, and the company served as a traditional work option for a select few of the retiring members of the armed forces. It was actually run by a board of directors, all who had served 20 plus years in the military, and 20 plus years for the security company.

I asked him what he thought of my management style. He thought about it for a bit, then told me he thought I had a “mostly hands off style, get something working, turn it over to guys you trust, and let them run it. They would then send you reports, which your assistants would read and mark important stuff. You would read them, and mark important stuff, to train the assistants what was important to you, then you would schedule meetings or answer questions as they arise.”

“Pretty good description.” I told him. “How many guys on the board?” I asked.

“Nine” he told me.

“Ok, set up a meeting with them. If they won’t sell, I’d be willing to either hire them as their exclusive client, or pay them a first right of refusal option of they ever do decide to sell.”

“I’ll set it up. You’d have to go to them, and they don’t have a gate elevator.”

“My bedroom is finished in the house, let’s get me moved up there. You can send your assistant to the meeting with the armored sprinter van, and I’ll gate in.”

He agreed and got my stuff moving. It took 2 days, but I spent my first night in my new house, and it was wonderful. My bedroom faced the West, the ocean side. My personal space was the entire top floor. I had a balcony off the bedroom with a door I could open for the breeze. Behind the bedroom was a full bath and dressing area with closet.

The bedroom connected to the main living area by a hallway along the north side of the hexagon. The center of the hexagon was a dining area, with two hallways coming off it, one to the two guest rooms with ensuite that looked out the South side of the hexagon, and another that led to an office the looked out the north east side. The bedroom hallway and office hallway were one continuous hallway, with a door in the middle that led out to the dining area.

From the dining area was a small kitchen, and a large open plan living area that took up most of the South East wall. This area also had doors that opened out onto the roof of the three story wing that ran due East. It had outdoor barbecue and dining facilities and a large lap pool, plus a hot tub.

The heated pool had a retracting glass roof, that would let me swim laps even in bad weather. The office originally was going to exit onto the roof as well, but security had decided that a balcony, or a second exterior exit for the office would be a bad idea.

Next to the living room, was a large 8 foot ring. I had decided no stairs on my level. My bedroom had an emergency escape gate under the bed, and there was one hidden in the office as well, but how many people have a 10 billion dollar gate as the entrance to their private space?

There was a staircase between the first and second floor. The second floor held the security office, worker rooms, and temporary guest quarters. The central space had four 8 foot gates. One to the basement with my lab, one to the third floor, one to the fourth floor, and one to Gardiner for off site staff.

My living room also had a gate elevator. It connected to the gate complex at the desert base. A more public gate elevator was on the first floor, just to the side of the formal entrance. My office had the fireman pole and double 36” gates for going to and from my basement, similar to what the RV had. My basement was not actually at the beach house, but was actually a huge underground space at the desert base.

The third floor was all offices. Once Anne’s office was complete, she would move into her office in one of the third floor wings. Ted had an office next door, and they had a nice suite on the second floor facing the beach. The second and third wings also had stairs between them.

My management team would be moving into accommodations and offices in one wing, and the third wing was kitchen, mess hall and security. Security also had an 8 foot gate for rapid deployment to the beach house from the base where they were staged.

Chef had hired an assistant whose job it was to feed me breakfast every morning. She soon knew what I liked. I would have a cup of coffee with a small fruit plate, and sit watching the waves from my office first thing in the morning, checking email. Then I would go for a swim, do 30 laps, and go take a shower and dress. She would have a nice breakfast for me, varying between omelettes, pancakes, waffles, sausage, scrambled​ eggs and bacon. It was always a classic, and always good.

Anne started joining me for breakfast, and go over my itinerary for the day. Then she would join me in my office for an hour as we discussed business. This day she let me know that the van was at the security headquarters, in preparation for my appointment with them later today.

Ted would join me for lunch, then we would go together to the appointment. Anne seemed nervous, but didn’t explain why. I spent a few hours in my office on a video conference with my architect. He wanted to build an identical copy of my beach house on my Italian island. I was fine with that, as I knew he would get the views right. Then we talked about the gate hub.

I had envisioned a series of connected geodesic domes, separating the gates into groups based on region. One dome for the southern United States, one for the Northwest, one for the East coast, one for the Southwest, and one for the Midwest. All connected together with a larger central dome that would house management offices and restaurants. The gates would be at the edge of the domes, with groups either entering, or exiting every 15 minutes. The back side of the gates would be accessed by vehicles for cargo.

There would be a ring road around the complex, and electric cargo vehicles, perhaps even automated that would take their cargo to the correct gate, drop it off, and pick up a new load, and bring it back. The vehicle side of the gates would have a stop light, and would alter every 15 minutes too.

He liked the idea, and started talking about wind loads, and temperature control. I gave him an area in Wyoming east of Rock Springs, and North of Hwy 80.

We finished just in time for a nice lunch. After lunch we gate hopped to the van. Anne was there to make sure I looked presentable, and we stepped out. It was getting to dusk, so we were somewhere back East. I hadn’t bothered to ask where we were going. It was a heavily wooded area with a nice office building, and a guard at a gate house behind us.

We went into the building, I was issued an ID and taken up to a conference room with Ted. Ted seemed to already have an ID. The elevator opened at the top floor, and a very efficient looking woman escorted us to a conference room. There were 8 gentlemen sitting behind a table with their backs to a window in which the sun was setting.

My eyes adjusted I realized that Ted was now sitting at the table in what had been an empty chair. He gave me a sheepish grin, but what really startled me was the man in the center chair. He gave me a big grin and said, “Good to see you again Tim.”

My jaw dropped “Uncle Jack?” I asked.

“Have a seat Tim.” he instructed.

I sat thinking over the last time I had seen him. It had been my mom’s funeral, when I was 26. He had been Uncle Jack since I was 6 years old, when he moved in the house next door about a year after my dad had died.

“What are you doing here Uncle Jack?” I asked.

“I work here, Tim.” He explained in a patient voice.

“Ok, that was obvious, but what are you doing at a security firm?”

“Tim, let’s cut this short. We rarely ever take private clients. We mostly do work for certain government agencies that want deniability, or can’t simply do the job that needs doing for political or other reasons. I’m here because I spent 20 years working for one of those agencies. Another 20 years spent working here got me a seat at this table.”

I was gob smacked. It hadn’t been until I came home for a visit during summer break at college that I had first realized that my Mom and Uncle Jack were actually more than just friendly neighbors. I respected him too much to even say anything about it. Mom died in a car accident a few years later. After I sold the house, I never went back to that town, and certainly didn’t ever expect to run into Uncle Jack again.

“I came here to talk you guys into selling to me, making me an exclusive client, or taking a good faith offer of first refusal should you ever decide to sell during my lifetime.” I told them. “Obviously more is going on here. Who wants to fill me in?”

Ted spoke up, “As Jack said, we normally don’t take individual clients. We sometimes take on security work for companies, or government contracts. Your name came to us from your lawyers office. Jack recognized you, did some investigating why you needed security and convinced the rest of us.” He said waving his hand at the other seven smiling men.

“At no time have I been in breach of my non disclosure agreements​. Because of the nature of our work we can’t be purchased, as it is too much liability for one person should an operation go wrong. We have been avid buyers of your technology and have made some great uses saving lives, and hunting bad guys.

“We are also why the government has gone so easy on you. They know we are watching out for you to protect their interests. They consider you a national asset.”

“And here I thought that I was just being extra canny.” I told them. They chuckled, and I continued, “I’m currently worth more than several countries combined. I have need of state level protection. I don’t understand why I can’t buy you guys. I’m not interested in changing anything but confirming your loyalty to my safety. I would not want to even have veto power over any of your operations. I just want to hand you a check, and know that I’m safe for the rest of my life. I’m even willing to give you raises, sell you gates at cost, never require you to make a profit, and never set foot here again.”

They all gave me a close look. “Tim, are you really that scared?” Uncle Jack asked.

“Only when I think about it. It’s been nine months and I went from saving for a beach house someday, to being with billions and owning a Beach Villa! I try very hard not to think about it.”

“Can you give us a few minutes Tim?” another man asked. The door to the conference room opened and the same efficient lady escorted me out, sat me in a comfy leather chair and handed me a cup of coffee just how I like it. I just sat and thought for a few minutes, then the lady touched my shoulder and told me they were ready again.

This time as I entered the sun had set, and the outside had turned dark enough that the overhead lights made seeing outside impossible. The men’s faces were neutral, so I sat across from them.

“We were wondering how big of a raise did you plan for us?” a man asked.

“I was going to double everybody’s salary, from grunt to director, to start.” I replied.

The men chuckled appreciatively. “We have decided to sell you the business.” Uncle Jack announced.

It caught me by surprise. “How much I asked, pulling out my checkbook.” There was another chuckle.

“The government is not allowed to make a profit from us. It’s a restriction in our charter. The sale price is 1 dollar.” Another man told me.

I quickly wrote out two checks. One for one dollar, payee left blank, the other for one billion dollars payee the name of the company. I slid the checks across the table.

“One is for the government, the other is for you guys. Put it into the retirement fund, the widows and orphan fund, and into upgrades, or whatever else you want. Do whatever you feel like doing when the government comes calling, I’ll leave accepting the jobs to you guys, you’re the experts. If you need more money, just let me know. Adjust whatever I’m paying you now upward to cover the new salaries.

“I really hope Ted comes back with me, he’s been invaluable. If not I hope that I at least get to keep Anne, I don’t know if I can do without both of them.”

Uncle Jack smiled, “Ted and Anne stay with you. They may occasionally have assistants that disappear while on trips to foreign countries, but don’t worry about it. We run a tight ship, but you’ve got our guarantee that we will break even every year, even including your security costs.”

That’s a relief, I thought. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. For the first time in nine months, looking at these nine men, who had just pledged their loyalty to my security I felt safe.

We chatted a bit more, and I asked about any cool toys they had, tanks or attack helicopters, etc. They said they did have an attack helicopter, it was actually hidden on a property in the woods East of Gardiner should high speed extraction, or artillery strikes be required.

Finally I left and went with Ted to the van. From the van we gated back to the house. I was surprised to find it still light out, but it had only been 2 PM here when we left. I went up to my room, took a hot shower, and sat by the window staring out at the waves.

The next morning I was out of my shock and funk. I had an extra long swim, and then headed to the desert base. We were building two new barns to support giant gate production. Qantas airlines had placed an order for four 8 foot gate pairs. They choose the 2 million a year option, but realized that it was cheaper, and faster than any new planes for the long haul.

The four gates would have connections to Los Angeles, London, Dubai, and Hong Kong. The price would be the about the same, but they were setting up the gates as continuous flow, one side for arrivals, one side for departures.

Once in place I was pretty sure they would order more, as people would soon be using Sydney as a hub to travel between those four places. I expected as soon as they realized people would pay to not have to be in an airplane to fly from Heathrow to LA, or any other combination, they would be expanding to more locations.

I did plan on limiting international gate hubs to 5 rented gates at each location. I didn’t want one country or location to dominate the market, or control the price. If somebody wanted to buy the gates then they could have as many as they wanted.

Within hours of the Qantas airlines announcement, I had contacts from FedEx, DHL, and UPS. There were also inquiries from a few airports, and airlines around the world. They did the math, 2 million a year, no lost luggage, no flight attendants, no pilots, no airplanes, increased capacity. It was definitely going to change the small package international cargo transport system.

Earlier testing showed that the gates only worked in a circular configuration. It had to be nearly perfectly round. I had tried a square shape, thinking that a 10 foot square would be ideal for shipping containers.

With production steady of 36” gates, and 8’ gates, it was time to go for 15 foot gates. Technically a 13’ gate would be sufficient to pass the largest high cube cargo containers. I wanted extra room for armoring against potential impacts by multi ton shipping containers. I also was looking at the lucrative military market, an M1 Abrams would fit thru a 15 foot gate.

I didn’t know the size of the new M2 Abrams, but expected it to be the same or smaller. The talk in tank circles for decades had been smaller and lighter, so they could ship easier, but the M1 had a reputation as very hard to kill, and anything lighter typically fell short of this standard requirement, which meant the design was ultimately rejected.

I sent a message asking Anne to schedule me for production work on the 15’ gates next all week, and that I’d be out for the rest of the day. I had a patient to visit at my base hospital.

I gated to the base hospital where security meet me and led me to a hospital room. I’d not met the man in the bed, but I recognized the doctor. We shook hands and I was introduced to the man in the bed. We chatted about his brain surgery, unlike most such surgeries, they had not shaved his head. He was alert, and had remained conscious during the entire procedure. The doctor talked about how the surgery went, and very happy with the solutions we had found in building the machine.

With true color layered pictures of the tumor, they had taken pictures of the tumor in 100ths of a millimeter. He had been injected with a dye that caused the tumor to fluoresce, but had never been used on brain tumors, as it typically wasn’t needed to physically see them as radiation was used to target them deep in the brain.

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